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Between Frank and Paul a rivalry continued to exist; but, for the most part, it was of a healthy, generous sort, and Merriwell retained his position as leader, having become more popular than before among the better class of boys at the academy. "Boy, where did you get that ring?" Frank Merriwell started and looked quickly at the man who had hoarsely hissed the question in his ear.
That stone alone would be enough to imprison them hopelessly, but the sounds of the landslide which had made the mountain roar and shake had satisfied him that the bowlder was held in place by a mass of earth and timber through which, with the best implements, it would be impossible to dig in a week. "Merriwell has triumphed!" muttered the Mexican. "He will have no more trouble from me."
Merriwell smiled and wiped the champagne from his face with a white silk handkerchief. The proprietor bustled in and threatened. Diamond quivered with excitement. "There will be no further trouble here," calmly said Frank. "This matter must be settled between us I could see that plainly enough. It wan just as well to bring it to a head at once."
Big Hugh Heffiner, the regular pitcher, whose arm was in a bad way, complimented Merriwell on his work, which he said was "simply great." Of course Frank felt well, as for him there was no sport he admired so much as baseball; but he remained the same old Merriwell, and his freshmen comrades could not see the least change in his manner.
"Yes; he was with the boy whose father lives in that house." Carlos was surprised. "Do you mean Frank Merriwell?" "He is the one! It is he who is robbing me of what is mine. He laughed at me when I demanded money. I hate him!" "Felipe, I love you more because you hate him! I have seen and talked with him, and my pleasure would be to put a knife between his ribs!" Again those boys embraced.
Merriwell, I would like to speak with you," said Pierson in a manner that was not exactly unfriendly. Frank remembered that the fellow who chased him the night before had promised to see him again, but he had thought at the time that the man did not mean it. Now he wondered what in the world Pierson could want. "Yes, sir," said Merriwell, stopping and bowing respectfully.
But that was not the end of Gordon's woes, for Merriwell seemed in a reckless mood, and he made for third on the next pitch, getting it on a beautiful slide, although the catcher made an attempt to throw him out. The catcher came down scowling, and Gordon went to meet him, asking as he did so: "What's the matter with you? You ought to have stopped him at second and held him there."
At first, before his real character was known, he had picked up quite a following, but he posed as a superior, which made him disliked by the very ones who helped him spend his money. He had hoped to be a leader at Yale, but, to his dismay, he found that he did not cut much of a figure after all, and Frank Merriwell, a fellow who never drank or smoked, was far more popular.
Frank Merriwell was right in thinking he had not seen the last of the man in black. On the third day after his first meeting with the mysterious stranger he was astonished, while ascending the stairs, to see that individual come out of Professor Gunn's room. Frank paused on the flight that led to the "Cock-loft," and watched the man hurriedly descend the stairs.
For a few seconds the boys gave an exhibition of scientific sparring which would have proved very interesting to their comrades if all had not been too busy to watch them. Frank Merriwell contiuued to laugh, and it had been said at Yale that he was most dangerous in an encounter when he laughed. "You came near doing it, Browning," he admitted, "but it was rather tricky on your part.
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